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| Courtesy of Planeta Inform |
The feature film directorial debut of
Pavel Sidorov, Quiet Comes the Dawn, is a Russian horror film that has
clearly studied the leagues of Canadian science-fiction horror ala David
Cronenberg with enough visually ravishing imagery to make the likes of Italian
giallo maestro Dario Argento blush.
Though set within a Russian apartment complex, a familiar setting for
contemporary Russian pictures, this curious and confounding yet picturesque psychological/survival
horror journey feels more overtly influenced by Western and Eastern-European
cinema than anything. Unlike the recently
released Why Don’t You Just Die! which felt like an indigenous but
relatable story with Western appeal, Quiet Comes the Dawn is much closer
to being like a Nicolas Winding Refn film where the imagery takes precedence
over the story being told, if there is one.
Young Svetlana (Aleksandra Drozdova) is
still grieving over the recent and still unsolved death of her older brother
Anton (Kuzma Kotrelev) and the disappearance of her mother Maria (Russian
veteran actress Oksana Akinshina). Plagued with recurring nightmares of herself
being buried alive or her brother returning to life, she enlists in a sleep
study program (Come True?) in an effort to get a handle on her insomnia.
Induced to sleep medically with several
other patients, they each share a collective lucid dream. But upon reawakening, however, they find
themselves in a labyrinthine waking nightmare when all of the doctors seem to
have abandoned the hospital, 28 Days Later style.
From here the film becomes more interested
in phantasmagorical psychedelic surreal survival horror as we find ourselves
led along until neither we nor the film’s protagonist know where we are
anymore. On the one hand this can be
frustrating for those looking for an answer, but in recent years with such
mindbenders as Mandy, Possessor, Come True and the COVID
inspired In the Earth, that subgenre of science fiction horror has
become more common than not. There’s also, with Svetlana as the film’s
resourceful heroine, more than a bit of a Heather Langenkamp vibe to Aleksandra
Drozdova’s performance and the film’s proceedings. If the film’s director proclaimed this to be
a Russian remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, that
would not be an incorrect description.
Sonically the film is equally rich
thanks to a pulsating score by British musician Garry Judd, best known for The
Forest, The Bride and an upcoming Disney documentary. Ordinarily a composer for British television,
his involvement in the project only further signifies Quiet Comes the Dawn as,
like Hardcore Henry before it, a Russian production clearly geared
towards Western moviegoers and particularly horror fans. Of course none of this would be spoken of
were it not for the film’s cinematography by Ivan Burlakov. Incidentally the same cinematographer as the
aforementioned The Bride and Salyut-7, Burlakov’s visuals are so
lush and so neon-fluorescent kaleidoscopic in presentation you could just
marvel at some of the vistas being conjured up here. Quite possibly the most visual Russian horror
film since Mister Designer and just as intriguing, Quiet Comes the
Dawn is simply put an audiovisual treat.
The screenplay by Yevgeny Kolyadintsev
is conventional survival horror fluff augmented by the film’s arresting look
and sound and its refusal to provide easy answers will no doubt frustrate some
moviegoers. From my perspective the
picture starts out a lot stronger than how it ends, but nevertheless this was
such a fun film to look at and hear I didn’t find myself caring that it didn’t
all make sense. Oksana Akinshina is
always a welcome presence onscreen, having recently starred alongside Danila
Kozlovsky in Chernobyl 1986, and is no stranger to horror. Moreover, Quiet Comes the Dawn shows
such promise in a new filmmaker and pays such homage to the Italian-American
subgenres that influenced it you can’t help but feel a little tickled pink
watching it.
--Andrew Kotwicki
